Wings and things
by ctlvr1
Summary: Part of another story I've been writing for awhile. After the angels fall (called it!) it is neccaserry for someone to get back into heaven. Cas lends a hand on wings to the person who can help. Not good at summaries (who is?) readers appreciated!


"Hm." He grunted. "I do know how to take care of wings you know."  
"I-I know. It's just-" she rubbed the back of her neck, searching for words. "I don't usually let anyone else... Touch them."  
"I understand. They're some what of a private matter." He said, walking around on the end of the room opposite her, pacing slightly in an in organized way. She nodded slowly from the spot wear she was perched slightly awkwardly on the edge of the bed. He stopped moving to face her. "But uh, you won't be doing it yourself anytime soon." He ran a hand over the stubble on his face, and she could still feel him looking at her even though she was staring intently at her own naked toes. "I want to help you, if you'll let me." She wiggled uncomfortably, picking small bits of fuzz off of the scratchy top blanket. She wasn't really sure what to do or say or even think. She glanced up quickly at him, them over to the corner, but back to his face as she registered that his expression wasn't quite what she had expected. However she felt, he didn't look at all uncomfortable as far as she could make out. "I guess I won't be." She muttered, twisting a little as she spoke and looked over to the corner again. He started to move towards her, causing her to jump a bit but calm down in a few moments. He stood a few paces away from the bed, looking down at her sitting there. "Aren't they getting uncomfortable?" His voice while still deep, was softer than usual. A tone he'd never directed towards her before. She nodded, wiggling backwards a bit, not really knowing why. "Look." He put his hand under her chin, not using any force, but never the less moving her gaze from the corner to him. "I won't hurt you okay?" "I know. I d-didn't think you would." He gave her a little smile, soft and kind as he pushed some tangled frizz out of her face. "Where's your brush?" He took his hands off her, and turned in a circle scanning the room. "Oh uh, it's probably in the dresser. I usually just use my fingers." It was probably apparent that she hasn't used it even on her hair in a few days. He made his way over and started riffling through the drawers as she awkwardly removed her sweater, lifting it over her head and shifting her wings a little. "Ah, here it is." He lifted it carefully and shut the middle drawer. "I must say its beautiful." He turned then, guys catching hers and he gave her a little smile. She smiled back shyly, biting back a pain filled groan as she stretched her right wing, muscles pulling, not want to move. She force her left out, then brought them both down to half span. He dropped calmly on the bed next to her, bouncing the springs. "Better?" He asked. "Yeah, a little. It's so hard to keep them hidden."  
"I know." He reminded her. "although back in the day you didn't have to worry, humans couldn't see them." She nodded, knowing that probably wouldn't apply to her, since she wasn't 'natural'. She groaned as she moved he left wing in a small circle. It seemed almost worse than the other one, more than stiff or painful.  
"How long have you been out of sorts?" He inquired, folding his hands in his lap an watching as her wings shook. "Don't call it that. It's not 'out of sorts' unless you're broken. Or pregnant."  
"You are practically broken." His voice changed, as if the words were sour. She turned her head, looking down and making sure we face wasn't in the line of his intent vision. She stretched more, hoping to distract him with her movement. He sat there awhile, just watching her move about a little, trying to shake the pins and needles from her wings. "Are they-" he said after a while, the sudden sound of his voice startling her. "Are they very painful?"  
"Yes." Her voice wounded small, and a little frightened even to her own ears. "I'm just thankfully they didn't break."  
"In going to touch you now, alright?" She blinked quiet a few times, sitting in an unmoving silence. He nodded then, even though she didn't quite trust him, she realized trust wasn't always a felling. Sometimes it's a choice. So she chose to trust him.  
His hands were warm as he first layers them on the base of her wings, just where they met her back, and careful as he moved down, tucking rebellious stray feathers into place before helping her to stretch. He took the tip of her left wing in his fingers, and slowly pulled it up and out to a position where most of the outer feathers where bared and picked up the brush, running it over the peak of her wing, flattening the slightly dusty feathers. She shook her head slightly, upmost uncomfortable with the fact that that she was feeling relieved. He moved the brush downward in long strokes, pausing to gently rub his thumb over an area. " you have some black feathers here." She nodded. "I've got some very… creative coloring."  
"Indeed."  
He ran his hands lightly over her feathers, feeling the soft down in the places where it stuck up. Moving down he felt lumps under her feathers and pulled his hand away as she hisses slightly.  
"Are your glands painful?" He asked tenderly. She nodded, and craned we neck in shame. "It's alright, they're just full." He soothed. "It was bound to happen. You don't need to be ashamed."

I can continue if anyone reads it/I get more ideas! Rates an reviews helpful. Thanks!


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